


The Art of Lying

by TheMagicPocketTurtle



Category: Dishonored
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagicPocketTurtle/pseuds/TheMagicPocketTurtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Treavor Pendleton has but one skill, and he wields it better than anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Lying

Pendleton wished they had drawn lots. Pendleton wished someone else had volunteered, Pendleton wished many things, and like all wishes, they had failed to come true, and so he was left standing at the bar, surrounded by his fellow conspirators, with a glass full of poison and a goal to end the life of a man they had all come to admire, however grudgingly.

No one had wanted this job. Corvo was a man of great restraint, but they doubted even he would have the capacity to forgive this capital treason. It was understood, although hardly mentioned, that whoever actually handed the assassin his glass was to receive the greatest portion of Corvo's wrath, and if possible, take the fall for all of them. All of them, all four men (Five if you counted Wallace. It was also understood but never mentioned that Pendleton's manservant was privy to all paths his master had deigned to take.), were now bound together in a pact of silence that could save or sink the lot of them. Havelock, who ordered the execution, Martin, who divined the how, Samuel, who had poured the poison, and Pendleton, who had purchased it, and whose duty it was now to make sure it reached its final destination. Everyone had their role to play- this was to ensure that everyone had something to lose, that everyone was at risk should their treachery be discovered. The plan was airtight.

_"It doesn't make sense for_ me  _to give it to him. You're the head of this operation, Havelock, this was all your doing. You started it, you should be the one to finish it."_

_"Havelock can't do it." Martin objected. "He is many things, a leader, a powerful fighter, but he is not a good liar. This is_ your  _job, Pendleton."_

_"I've done my part-"_

_"The smallest part."_

_"Why don't you do it? We need a liar, and I see no reason a High Overseer doesn't have the capacity."_

_"Watch your tongue, Treavor. We've already decided- you've been useless for the past six months, it's time to do some work."_

There were some tricks to the trade of course- First of all, you had to accept the fact that you were lying.

_"I was exploring."_

_"Dammit Treavor! These were new clothes!"_

_The young Pendleton could expect a beating out of this- out half the night, and when at last he returned, caked in dirt, the silk shirt and jacket were ruined beyond salvage. He bit back the truth though- there were consequences to telling. She wouldn't believe him, for one- her precious twin step-sons could do no wrong, they were angels, absolute and perfect. But no beating his step-mother would order could ever match the vengeance of Custis and Morgan, and little Treavor was not keen on experiencing an early grave twice in one night._

You had to keep calm.

_It had been months since the vipers. He still had fits, now and again, but he'd found out how to control them, more or less. It was the agitation that got him, getting worked up, letting his heart race and breathing get shallow._

_The fits were dangerous- he beat his head against the floor, and once gave himself a concussion on the mantelpiece when someone dropped a book behind him. As he got older, Pendleton began to wonder if the fits ever really became less frequent, or if he just became more apathetic._

It never hurt to throw in some flattery.

_"He's wonderful, isn't he?"_

_"Ah, yes."_

_"Well he's your brother. What do you think?"_

_Treavor thought the woman should find someone else, anyone else. But Custis was sick, so it fell to the youngest Pendleton to play wingman to Morgan. His older brother raised an eyebrow, and "smiled". Threatened would be more accurate, Treavor supposed, but that wasn't something you just said if you expected to wake up in the morning._

_"Well, he's quite charming," For a troll. "as I'm sure you noticed. And my brother is a pinnacle of virtue," Compared, perhaps, to the Outsider. "A man among men. You couldn't find better if you tried." Looking in the prisons and gutters. Treavor clapped his brother on the shoulder. If Morgan were to get lucky tonight, he might even get away with it._

_The young lady giggled and brushed up against the older Pendleton. "Isn't that sweet? It's so nice to see brothers who get along."_

And of course, whenever possible, make eye contact.

_"_ _**Look** _ _at me you little shit!"_

_One of his eyes was already swelling shut, and Treavor was certain that if he tried to stand the numerous cracked ribs would scream in protest. The best he could do was crane his neck in an attempt to get his one good eye to meet Custis's._

_"_ _**What did you say?** _ _"_

_"Nothing."_

_A rocketing kick to the gut. "Don't you_ _**lie** _ _to me you little worm!_ _**What did you tell them** _ _?"_

_His voice was cracking, he was having trouble breathing. "I swear, I didn't say anything. I would never-"_

_"Bullshit." Custis spat, then squatted down and rolled his younger brother onto his back. "You'd sell us out in a heartbeat, you little runt."_

_"No." Treavor choked. He could feel the blood running down to his lungs. But, to his pride, he managed to spit out "You're my brothers, and I love you."_

Treavor passed the glass of poison to Corvo without skipping a beat. He'd made his peace with his role, and really, wasn't there something to be said about being the one to fell such a fearsome warrior? Deep breaths, relax those shoulders- he had some wiggle room here, any uncertainty or nervousness he had could easily be passed off as excitement- this was the dawn of a new era! A tyrant overthrown, a young Empress on the throne, and Treavor Pendleton helped start it all! Celebration! Triumph! That was what tonight was all about, after all. He talked up Corvo as best as he could, and to be fair, he meant every word- Corvo had done the work where the rest of them only talked big. The only lie that passed his lips was the one that promised Corvo a future with a cleared name. He looked Corvo in the eyes as he said it. And to Treavor's pride (and his shame), Corvo believed him.

Treavor fought off the urge to look at Havelock and Martin's faces when Corvo smiled, and downed the spirit. He knew they weren't any happier than he about the situation. Were they? Havelock had such respect for the former Lord Protector. Martin owed his very life and freedom to the man. Maybe that was why they made Pendleton do it- they thought that, of the four of them, he cared the least.

But there was no going back now. Treavor hadn't purchased an antidote, and he doubted they could find any home remedies of any potency. The first trick to treachery, he supposed, was accepting your treason.


End file.
